Sarah was having a really hard time with it. Everyone left, except Jeff, Hannah, Sarah, and me.
We prayed together and for Abby. As we said "amen", Sarah lost it.
She cried, and begged us not to close the casket. I felt the same way, but had to keep it together. She grabbed it and wouldn't let go.
We told her over and over that Abby was gone, and this wasn't her anymore. She wouldn't accept that.
I'd been told that children have a difficult time separating the physical from the spiritual, and that was definitely true there. Sarah cried over and over "this is the Abby I know, THIS is who I want!"
She screamed what I wanted to scream. She clung to her the way I wish I could have. She, as a child, did what I wanted to do. I wanted to keep her with us too. I wanted to be able to hold the girl I knew too. I put my hand on her chest for another minute. I had to be absolutely sure that it was real.
Abby was so strong, that even as hours passed, I still had to be sure that she was really gone. If anyone would just start breathing again, I thought it would be her. She always did what we didn't expect. Why not now?
Of course, she was in Heaven, and we had to say goodbye to her body.
20 or 30 minutes of Sarah wailing and holding on to the casket went by. I finally realized it wasn't helping her anymore. Daddy gave Abby the traditional last kiss, and I gently but firmly told Sarah that she could close the casket or I would.
She said she would and then did. As soon as it closed she screamed "that's my baby...that's my Abby...noooo"
My heart broke as it silently screamed the same.
That was my baby. The child I couldn't wait to have. And she was gone now.
I took Sarah's hand as her other one stretched toward her sister. We walked out.
As we followed the hearse to the cemetery, every time the car slowed down, Sarah cried and begged us not to be there yet. I was really worried about what she would do when we were there. I gave her the option of staying in the van and not coming with us, but she chose to get out.
All the men in the family helped carry the casket to the grave. It was a very informal, but beautiful time. Many family members spoke of Abby and what she meant to us. Jeff's great grandmother prayed and sang a hymn, which we all joined in for. We placed roses on her casket, and then it was time to bury her.
Sarah did well through that part.
Then some family left, and some went through the cemetery, as they are all family members. Jeff walked Hannah and Sarah down the mountain.
I couldn't leave her yet. I stood by myself for a few minutes, with my hand on that white box that held my child. I thought of that silly rectangle, that now had the job my arms did for so many years; holding that sweet girl. Again, I wished it had been different.
I sat on the wet ground, out of the way as they lowered her. I watched as the dirt covered her. Jeff and the girls came back just as they were sodding. Sarah and Hannah were really sad, but okay. They helped spread the grass seed, we put more flowers down, then Sarah placed the small marker from the funeral home in the ground.
It was time to leave. I finally felt that we did all we could for her. Until that very second, I couldn't imagine not being with her. As I walked down the mountain, my thoughts turned to Emily and what came next.
When we got in the van Sarah said "I can't believe you would leave her on the first day she died". That was like a knife to the heart. Sarah wanted to spend the night in the mountains and visit the grave in the morning. I needed to get back to Emily.
I explained again that we did everything we could for Abby, and now I had to care for Emily. I think Sarah understood, but it was hard for all of us.
There are really good and bad things about how quickly we buried Abby. I'm extremely grateful we never had to leave her. I'm glad we didn't embalm or do anything that felt unnatural to me. I love how we were able to care for every aspect of her life and death. It was perfect for who she was. The down side of everything moving so quickly was that it didn't feel real. She was buried 14 hours after she died, and it felt like walking through an awful dream. We were exhausted and I kept saying over and over that I couldn't believe it happened. There was no time to process.
That was good and bad. We just had to get through it, and then plan the memorial service, which I took my time with.
Sarah has done remarkably well since then. As hard as that day was for her, it seems she really grieved. Openly and completely. She had the space to deal with it honestly, and participate as much as she wanted to. Hannah did too. I think it was harder for Hannah long term, but that day, it was Sarah. The next day was all about Emily handling it.
I felt extraordinary peace that day, which I know only comes from God. I was extremely grateful that it all worked out exactly how we hoped it would have. If she had passed away in the afternoon or evening, we would have had to leave her at the funeral home overnight. I know that's a normal thing to do, but it wasn't what we wanted. I'm thankful it worked out for us.
I also felt extraordinary sadness, that will always be with me in some form, for my children who lost a sister, grandparents who grieved their grandchild, my husband who buried his daughter, our families that would miss her forever, and a world that was a little darker, never again to be lit by an amazing light we named Abigail Grace.
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